For my ninth, 29th Birthday several weeks ago, my dear friend D is giving me a cooking lesson. Since her house is being remodeled she is coming here to cook. So today she calls and says I'm bringing everything -- don't worry.
What is everything?
Everything but the staples.
What are staples?
You know like butter, flour.
Oh.
You do have those, right?
Ummm.
You don't have flour?
Ummm. You see D, I don't really cook. I pretend to cook by scaping takeout into my own dishes.
You don't have flour?
I don't bake.
You don't have flour?
Yes, I admit it. I am 38 years old, the mother of two, and I don't have flour. I have lots of face creams, however.
Must run, must buy flour before the school run.
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